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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28413273">There you are.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/smartforholmes/pseuds/smartforholmes'>smartforholmes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sherlock (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Greg is Sweet, M/M, Mycroft Holmes Needs a Hug, Post-Episode: s04e02 The Lying Detective</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:42:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,361</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28413273</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/smartforholmes/pseuds/smartforholmes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of Culverton Smith's arrest and Sherlock's hospitalization, Greg had to be there for Mycroft when no one would.</p><p>Based on Mystrade Monday prompt #22 “Let me help.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>125</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>There you are.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was another cold, dead night in central London, traffic had eased at the very late hours of the afternoon and now only a few cars and cabs could be seen on the streets. It could be just another day in the heart of the United Kingdom. And yet it wasn't.</p><p> </p><p>Six hours prior that moment, Sherlock Holmes was brutally beaten by Doctor John H. Watson in an attempt to stop the Consulting Detective from mortally wounding Culverton Smith with a scalpel; an attempt that ended up in a personal turmoil, with Watson leaving the Hospital not long after the younger Holmes was admitted as a patient this time.</p><p> </p><p>Four hours later, the Doctor and former Captain of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers came back after realizing the recent destructive and reckless lifestyle of his best friend was volitional. Being a systematic plan formulated by Mary Morstan, who stipulated John Watson needed saving and the only way to achieving that task consisted of Sherlock putting himself in danger.</p><p> </p><p>Again.</p><p> </p><p>Such realization was triggered by the approach of one Mycroft Holmes during his visit to Baker Street in an (as the <em>charming</em> Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade once named) drug bust, where the current usage and elaboration of them seemed obvious.</p><p> </p><p>The elder Holmes, as ever, had to find out what on Earth caused his brother to hit rock bottom once more. Of course, it wasn't the first time, nor the last, so Mycroft's hypothesis was Sherlock just decided to obsess over another unusual thing. However, he never imagined being outsmarted by Mrs. Hudson, more embarrassed by that, get verbally humiliated by her in front of several Government Agents, and John Watson.</p><p> </p><p>He stood outside the Hospital, completely alone and without his remarkable umbrella. After sending the waiting car home and Anthea to deal with the remaining paperwork in his office, all Mycroft could do now was overthink about the suscitated events of the day. Think about how he failed as an older brother again.</p><p> </p><p>His self-hatred mental speech was intruded by the familiar clink of a lighter, and a shadow coming to stand beside him in the poor lighting of the street.</p><p> </p><p>"Rough day, isn't it?" The voice spoke, and Mycroft quickly identified it as Gregory.</p><p> </p><p>"Good evening, Detective Inspector," He answered in the usual coldly, and formal tone.</p><p> </p><p>Greg chuckled as he pulled a little smoke into his mouth, holding it in for brief seconds before letting it come out.</p><p> </p><p>"We've known each other for a decade now, Mycroft, no need to keep it formal at all times."</p><p> </p><p>"It's never a bad moment to be a gentleman, let alone keep down the formality with a colleague," Mycroft answered, a small smile illuminating his face when he heard Greg laughing.</p><p> </p><p>"I think 'friends' is a more adequate term, don't you think?"</p><p> </p><p>Said terminology did something to his mind at that moment, a glimmer of affection in a sole word that resulted in him almost missing his balance, catastrophe that was salvaged by Greg's arms enveloping him in a tight hug, lowering them to the floor.</p><p> </p><p>Expecting a cry of anger by the good DI, or at least being tossed to the ground as the complete piece of rubbish he felt like, Mycroft was caught off guard by the gentle tone on Gregory's voice against his left ear.</p><p> </p><p>"Are you okay?" Lestrade questioned, easing the grip on the elder Holmes' waist. "It looked like you were going to pass out or something."</p><p> </p><p>Detaching from his embrace, Mycroft nodded. "I assure you I am completely fine, Inspector–"</p><p> </p><p>Greg rolled his eyes before interrupting him. "If you're going to deny you're completely knackered, at least bother to call me Greg, would you?"</p><p> </p><p>"Gregory, I am not exhausted, I got lost in the cosmos as the youth would say nowadays."</p><p> </p><p>"No one says that."</p><p> </p><p>"Alright, fine!" Mycroft snapped, shoving Lestrade away, regretting it as soon as Greg regained his posture. "I'm sorry, I am so, so–"</p><p> </p><p>"Hey, none of that now, look at me," The older man replied, getting closer to him cautiously. "You don't need to pretend nothing's wrong, not around me."</p><p> </p><p>"Why would you bother? My life is an utter disappointment and all people see in me is the power and influence I hold in my hands, nothing more. I am an idiot in innumerable ways, people rejoice pointing out my failures noticing how easily it can unstable me, Mrs. Hudson even dared to call me a reptile in front of John Watson, for fuck's sake."</p><p> </p><p>Not caring if Lestrade wanted to add, or object, Mycroft's raged speech continued.</p><p> </p><p>"All my life I have only had a single priority and that is my little brother, yet I seem to let him down every passing year and it doesn't matter how much I try because I fail–"</p><p> </p><p>He choked in disbelief, realizing that he had said too much, and interrogation was imminent by the look of incredulity and confusion on Greg's face.</p><p> </p><p>"Mycroft, for the type of... Stuff you have just outburst, you need help; professional help."</p><p> </p><p>"It's pointless, Gregory, <b>pointless!</b>"</p><p> </p><p>Greg's arms were around him before he could protest. "Then let <em>me</em> help," He murmured on a soft breath, his hand placed between Mycroft's tensed shoulder blades. "You need someone to take care of you, let me be that person."</p><p> </p><p>"I-I don't..."</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>"Mycroft,"</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>With a swift movement, Mycroft moved back enough to take a direct glimpse of Greg's worried expression. There were several emotions the elder Holmes could see in the astonishing brown eyes of the DI, and none of them were remotely close to repulsion and disgust. Instead, all he saw was honesty, dependability, comprehension.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Caring.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>He felt his eyes tear up, and Gregory's warm hands cupped his face, brushing the tears that started streaming down unconsciously.</p><p> </p><p>"You are not an idiot, you are not a bloody reptile for God's sake, you're broken, Myc," The silver-haired DI muttered, smoothing the auburn hair back. "And that's okay."</p><p> </p><p>Mycroft wanted to deny it, reiterate that he needed to be strong for those he loved, ensure him that The Ice Man would never melt; perhaps threaten with deporting him. Instead, a broken sob came out of his chapped lips, a desperate and trembling cry following it.</p><p> </p><p><em>"That's okay,"</em> Greg mumbled before grabbing his neck and setting him against his shoulder, muffling the forthcoming whimpers of complete despair.</p><p> </p><p>Mycroft moved closer to Greg, grabbing his coat tightly and pressing their chests together, enveloping himself in Gregory's warmth and the comfort it provided to his damaged heart. The DI smiled lightly, stroking Mycroft's hair and murmuring soothing words in his ear as the younger man sobbed inconsolable tears in his coat.</p><p> </p><p>The government official couldn't recall when was the last time he gave in to desired consolation; show weakness in such intensity. But contemplating how valuable and accepted he felt in Greg's arms, how with a simple touch he broke so easily, Mycroft realized it didn't matter.</p><p> </p><p>After eternal minutes passed by, Mycroft broke the silence, his head still tucked against the crook of Greg's neck.</p><p> </p><p>“I don't know what to do,” He confessed, his grip loosening.</p><p> </p><p>Greg sighed, “It’s alright if you don't.”</p><p> </p><p>“No,” The auburn mumbled, his hands grabbing Gregory's shoulders and gently pushing him back. “I’m afraid that if I continue to rely on the comfort you give me, I won't stop breaking.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, sweetheart,” The silver-haired warbled, gathering the trembling man in his arms again. “Then I swear I will hold you as you crumble, I'll be there when you get better,”</p><p> </p><p>Mycroft's vision blurred when another round of tears started forming in his eyes. “Greg...”</p><p> </p><p>“And I will carry you through it all; I meant it, everything,” Lestrade promised, his forehead against Mycroft's. “I’ve been there for you before, haven't I? This would not be an exception, let me take you home, alright?”</p><p> </p><p>With a short nod, Mycroft allowed Greg to lift him from the ground, guiding him towards the Detective Inspector's BMW. Deep down, he knew the torment was far away from ending, and the remorse and fear would hurt in his chest, but Greg would be there. And that's all that mattered.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Yesterday I was released from the Hospital, so between my signing out and my parents’ emotion, I didn't have the time to post it, so here it is. Hope you guys had an amazing Christmas, and I wish you a happy new year. Thankfully 2020 is over. xx</p></blockquote></div></div>
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